


The Boy By the Tulips

by damienbloodmarch



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: But you don't have to squint to find it, Gen, M/M, There isn't much romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damienbloodmarch/pseuds/damienbloodmarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why do you spend so much time in the garden?"<br/>"I don't know. I just like flowers."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy By the Tulips

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted on Fanficion.net.

 

_“Why do you spend so much time in the garden?”_

_“I don’t know. I just like flowers.”_

Emil never went in the garden. He didn’t know why, exactly. It just didn’t that important. There was always school to worry about, and his crazy brother who never seemed to leave him alone. He liked to look at it though, through the windows. It was pretty, with various types of flowers, his favourite being the white dryad. But he never went in the garden. Not a lot of people did. It was mostly teachers, who needed to get away from the hundreds of students that they encountered during the day, or a couple meeting up between class changes or after school. Sometimes his brother and Matthias would go in, and sometimes he even saw Tino and Berwald. Once, he even saw Peter with Lilli, ripping a few flowers from the ground, bits of dirt falling from the roots, and handing it to her, to which she shook her head, refusing the ‘gift’, and smiled politely.

He stood in front of the window, just taking a second to look in. There was the usual couple, Alfred and Arthur, who never seemed to leave the garden. And there was Ivan, who was looking at the sunflowers, with a sad smile on his face. But there was one person, who he had never even seen before. Not in the garden, not even at school. He was looking at the tulips, every so often writing something down in a notebook. Then the bell rang, snapping Emil back to reality. The boy turned from the tulips. Emil took a step away from the window, and turned to walk to class.

The next day he looked in the garden, the boy was there again, looking at the tulips, writing in the same notebook as the day before. Arthur and Alfred were in there again as well, standing by the roses. But he wasn’t focused on Arthur and Alfred. He was focused on the boy standing by the tulips. He didn’t know why he was so focused on him. It was just one person, standing by the tulips. Maybe it was because he had never seen the boy before. He didn’t know. But the boy had piqued his interest. He felt the urge to step inside and go talk to the boy. But he pushed the urge away. Still, he continued to stare at the boy who stood by the tulips. And then the bell rang, making him jump. The boy turned from the tulips, and reached down to get his bag. Emil backed away from the window, and headed off for his next class.

The third day when he looked into the garden, he wasn’t surprised to see the same boy standing there by the tulips, writing in the same notebook as the days before. He noted that the scarf the boy had worn was gone. He glanced over at the entrance, and mentally slapped himself as he decided to step inside. The smell of all the different types of flowers hit him, making him pause. The colors of the flowers looked a bit different, a bit brighter than from outside the window. It looked much prettier, and he tried to hide the smile that soon formed. He took slow, tentative steps over to where the white dryads were planted, his focus on the boy across the room, who was still writing in the notebook. He stopped in front of the dryads, and bent down to get a better view. The flowers were his national flower, he remembered. His mother had planted some in their own garden, and would often go outside and sit by them. After a few minutes of silence, the bell rang. He listened as the boy walked out, and after another minute of waiting, he walked out himself.

That was the first time he had ever gone into the garden.

The next day he hesitated, before stepping into the garden. Maybe this time he shouldn’t go in. Maybe he should just stand outside the window, like he normally did. Soon though, he stepped inside, and made his way over to the white dryads. The boy was again over by the tulips, the scarf wrapped around his neck like he had gotten used to. The notebook was gone though, his hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes were closed, and Emil could see his lips moving, but he heard nothing. Emil tried to keep his focus on the dryads, but he found himself staring at the boy from the corner of his eye. He wanted to go talk to the boy, ask him what he was whispering about. But whenever he tried to move from the spot he was in, and walk over to him, he felt his stomach drop, and decided against it. But he still found himself wanting to talk to the boy. He didn’t know why he was making it so hard for himself.

Then the bell rang, and the boy quickly walked out, leaving Emil by himself in the garden, with only the flowers as company. He stood there, his mind and heart racing.

A teacher stuck their head in, and told him he needed to go to his next class.

He felt dizzy almost, as he left the garden.

On the final day of the week, he walked into the garden, and straight to the boy who stood by the tulips. The boy glanced over at him from the corner of his eye as he came, before quickly looking back to the tulips. Emil stopped, and stood beside him, and looked at the tulips. He could feel the boy’s gaze on him, and he forced himself from looking back. The tulips, he noted, were pretty. The varied pinks and yellows were nice. He could see why the boy liked them so much. They were nice to look at.

But the tulips didn’t save them from the silence, and one of them had to speak up.

Emil swallowed, and forced himself to speak.

“Why do you spend so much time in the garden?”

He mentally slapped himself. It was rude.

“I don’t know.” The boy said, his voice making Emil jump. “I just like flowers.”

More silence followed, but neither of them broke it. The bell rang, saving them from the silence. The boy hurried out, leaving Emil to himself. Emil got out his phone, and took a picture of the tulips. A small smile formed on his lips, and he walked out of the garden, the smile never leaving his face.

He needed to go in the garden more often.


End file.
